


and she’s crying for you

by freefallvertigo



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/F, first kiss!!, half angst half fluff, it took everything i had not to write a full on angsty emo fic ok, these two are too pure :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-06
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-08-19 06:35:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,161
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16529321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freefallvertigo/pseuds/freefallvertigo
Summary: “Doctor,” Yaz croaked. “You’re carrying so much.”OrThe doctor and Yasmin use alien match-making technology and accidentally get a look inside one another’s heads.





	and she’s crying for you

“It’s amazing,” Yaz breathed.

The Doctor cast a subtle, sidelong glance at her companion, beaming warmly. “It really is.”

For the Doctor and Yaz were standing at the end of a long, shining metal walkway suspended a thousand feet in the air. To the left of the bridge was a colossal waterfall, refracting the light into a myriad of colours which shimmered softly and alluded to a kind of magic Yaz didn’t need to understand to appreciate. To the right, the horizon stretched on forever. Crystal columns of all heights and widths - some tall as mountains, some short as a garden shed - sprouted from the bluegrass. The Doctor had just finished explaining that they were a natural occurrence on this planet; a little gift from nature. Those that stood not in the shadow of others appeared to glow where the sun shone, as though emitting their own source of light. 

Possibly the most surreal part to Yaz was all the _life_. Because, weaving in and around these crystal columns, in sleek hovercrafts and along colourful, winding roads, was a whole civilisation. From all the way up there, they appeared to move like liquid - like blood through veins. Yaz realised with a start that there were people living inside the columns. Living and working and coming and going like they weren’t even aware how stunning a sight it was to behold. And they probably weren’t. They were used to it, after all.

”Reminds me a little bit of home, actually,” The Doctor said, and though the ghost of a smile adorned her face, her eyes bore a great sadness. Yaz was about to probe a little further (she never talked about home), but then the Doctor blinked and the sadness was gone. Allegedly. “Crystal cities. Love it. Let’s keep going, shall we?”

”Going where, exactly?” Yaz asked.

”Forward,” The Doctor grinned, spinning on her heels and setting off down the walkway. “We’re on a bridge, Yaz. Let’s cross it!”

“We were supposed to be picking up Graham and Ryan, weren’t we?” Yaz reminded her, struggling to keep up with her long, enthused strides. “I doubt they’ll be across this bridge.”

”Right. That would be strange,” The Doctor agreed. “The TARDIS seemed to want us here, though. She won’t take no for an answer. Must be something really cool here. Or really dangerous. Exciting, isn’t it? I can’t wait to see what it is.”

So Yaz followed her, without a word of protest, toward the potentially cool and dangerous.

As it happened, the bridge they were on led them into the heart of another column. The crystal glistened green and blue and Yaz tried not to let every pretty thing distract her. They came to a door. It was glassy, smooth, opaque. The Doctor, like a child peering into the window of a sweet shop, cupped her hands around her eyes and pressed her face against the glass to try and get a look inside. 

“Interesting.”

”What can you see?”

”Abolutely nothing,” The Doctor stepped back. “There’s a handle though. I love doors with handles. Very handy. Are you ready, Yaz?”

Yaz didn’t get a chance to answer before the Doctor grabbed the handle and slid the door wide open. A rush of warm air enveloped them instantly. It carried with it a tooth-achingly sweet smell, as if the particles themselves were made of sugar and butter. It almost knocked Yaz off her feet. And also made her a little bit hungry, if she was being honest. 

“Oh, look at this,” The Doctor stepped inside, eyes bright. Yaz was close behind. 

Inside, the column had been hollowed out to create a great, cavernous room of high arches and walls which gleamed in brilliant hues. Inset into small holes in the fabric of the building were candles whose flames burned pink and crimson. It gave the room a lovely, romantic glow. They looked to be in some kind of waiting room, if the plush sofas, alien reading material, and reception desk to their right were anything to go by. Yaz couldn’t figure out where that smell was coming from but she was slightly disappointed at not having found herself in a bakery at present. 

There were three others in the room. Two waiting in adjacent chairs, their skin more a hard black shell and their limbs a bit more plentiful than Yaz would have thought necessary. They wore white, silken robes and sat quietly, somewhat nervously. The third person stood behind the reception desk. More humanoid than the other two, save for the extra two eyes and the veins perfectly visible beneath the almost translucent pale skin. He smiled at them. His teeth were gold and sharp. 

“Welcome, young lovers,” He purred. “How may I help your hearts today?”

”Lovers?” Yaz echoed, blushing.

The Doctor shrugged, unfazed, and moved toward the desk. “Yes, hi, hello, I’d just like to make sure we’re in the right place. No signs on these doors, you see. People really should use signs more. Very useful. So, where are we, exactly?”

”You’re in Sector 84E of Column 999,” Came the patient reply. “Of course.”

“That really clears things up,” Yaz mumbled.

The receptionist narrowed two of his eyes. “Do you have an appointment? You absolutely cannot be here without an appointment, the waiting list here is extremely long.”

”Appointment? Yes, here,” The Doctor fished something out of her inside pocket, a piece of paper in a leather card holder. She flashed it to the man. “See? Appointment card. Says here we’re right on time.”

Yaz frowned at her. Did she know she was holding up a blank piece of paper? But then - and, really, she shouldn’t have been surprised - the receptionist was smiling again. “My apologies. You should have told me you were a gold card holder. Please, follow me.”

The Doctor looked at Yaz and raised her eyebrows, smiling a precious, cheeky smile. Yaz always felt really warm at her core when the Doctor smiled at her like that, like they were in on a secret together and the secret was that the two of them could do anything they wanted to. It somehow made her feel both safe and slightly scared; a paradox she had yet to wrap her head around.

The receptionist led the women out of the waiting room and along a wide, curving tunnel. “We’ll begin with the world renowned S.M.T., naturally. It’s a minor, non invasive procedure. Only takes a moment. After that, if you’re satisfied with the results, the rest of the resort’s resources will become available to you for you to use at your leisure.”

”Wonderful!”

Yaz looked at the Doctor and mouthed “ _S.M.T?_ ”

” _No idea_ ,” She mouthed back happily, apparently taking a great amount of pleasure from the fact that she was just as in the dark as Yaz. 

They came to a stop at another glass door fitted into the crystal wall. The receptionist scanned his card against a small black box beside the door and a moment later it slid open. When they entered, they found themselves standing in a room much different to the one they had been in previously. The floors were tiled with black marble and what appeared to be a projection of the surrounding stars and galaxies decorated the walls, briefly disorienting Yaz the same way opening the TARDIS door and finding the vast expanse of space staring up at her had done that first time. But this was only a projection. 

The room was divided into two down the middle by a glass wall. One side was mostly bare apart from a glass chamber - just big enough for two people to snugly fit inside - in the centre of the room. On the other side of the wall was some kind of a control room where a woman in a silver, metallic coat stood waiting. She looked almost like a clone of the receptionist aside from the subtle gender distinction. 

”That’s your technician, Xenley. She’ll take good care of you,” The receptionist assuredly them. “Good luck.”

The receptionist left, and the door closed behind him.

”Hello, Xenley! I’m the Doctor, this is Yaz, we’re here for an S.M.T., apparently. Quick question, what is an S.M.T. and does it have something to do with this neuro chamber?”

”You must be joking,” The technician said. She came out of the control room and proceeded towards the Doctor and Yaz. Without warning, she began to press small black stickers onto the Doctor’s face, behind her ears, on her fingers. 

“Oh, I love stickers.”

”The S.M.T. is the reason people come here, do you really not know what it is?” Xenley asked, moving on to Yaz and pulling out more stickers from her sheet. 

“Well, we only skimmed the brochure, didn’t we Yaz?” The Doctor winked, out of sight of the technician. Yaz’s heart faltered. “It’s just that a, well, a friend of ours brought us here so we don’t really know what we’re in for. Only that it’s probably very important, possibly dangerous, and probably super cool.”

“Oh, it isn’t dangerous at all. Your safety is 100% guaranteed,” Xenley said. “Step this way please.”

She guided them toward the glass chamber, opened the door, and gestured for them to go inside. 

“You want us to go in there?” Yaz asked. “Bit cosy, innit?” 

“Intimacy is the idea,” Said Xenley kindly.

 _Intimacy_. Yaz felt a sudden thickness in her throat but the Doctor had already stepped inside. She was looking up and around at the chamber, inspecting it, trying to figure it out. When she realised Yaz hadn’t followed her inside, she offered her her hand. “Come on, Yaz. I think I know what this is, it’s a very exciting bit of kit. Never seen one quite like this, though.”

Yaz looked at the Doctor’s outstretched hand for maybe a moment too long before taking it in hers and allowing the Doctor to pull her inside. They were standing very close, the lapels of their coats brushing together, the Doctor’s sweet custard-cream breath settling hotly on her cheek. Yaz didn’t know where to look, so she looked anywhere but at the Doctor’s eyes. She was afraid the Doctor would see something in them.

Xenley reached above their heads, taking the wires exposed in the roof of the machine and attaching the ends of each one to a sticker on the girls’ skin. When she was finished, she closed the door to the chamber.

It locked automatically.

”If I’m not mistaken, this is one of the first pieces of truly psychic neuro tech ever developed. S.M.T., I thought that sounded familiar!” The Doctor was grinning, eyes wide with wonder. “Always wanted to try this baby out. Never really had anyone to go with.”

”Psychic. You mean you’re gonna be able to read my thoughts?” Yaz asked, suddenly very worried and wishing she was very far away. _Don’t think about what you want to think about, don’t think about what you want to think about_.

“No, it’s not like that. S.M.T stands for Soulmate Test. It’s a highly complex science. Basically the neuro chamber scans our brains - our thoughts and fears and memories and hopes and everything you can possibly think of - and it calculates a compatibility so accurate that in a few years, it’ll be destroyed and any evidence of it ever existing will be wiped from the face of the planet. That’s because when the war breaks out, people will attempt to use the technology as a weapon. 99% accuracy, I heard. How wicked is that? Not the war part, that’s bad. But the other stuff is very impressive. I am very impressed.”

”Woah, slow down. Soulmate Test?” Yaz suddenly missed the danger. It terrified her slightly less. “Come on, Doctor, we’re not soulmates. Why are we here?”

”You don’t think I could be your soulmate?” She asked, pouting comically. 

“I...” Yaz honestly didn’t know what to say. The way the Doctor spoke sometimes, it was almost as if - but no. The Doctor was like this with everybody. She had more love to give than anybody Yaz had ever met and it just spilled out of her from every which way. Easy to mistake it for something it wasn’t. Especially when they were standing so close and the universe was projected against every surface, including the Doctor’s skin and her eyes, stars caught in her hair and teeth, as if she were a god. Or a painting. 

God, she was beautiful.

“Oh, I should warn you,” Came Xenley’s voice over the internal intercom. “During the process, there will be a brief connect in your psyches. We call it the mingling. It can be a shock to the system for some parties but it is totally harmless and it only lasts a second. Try and enjoy it; your first glimpse under the hood.”

”Wait, what do you mean by that?” The Doctor asked, but the intercom light was off. “Yaz, what does she mean by that?”

”Maybe we should have read the brochure, after all,” Yaz offered feebly. 

The chamber started to hum slowly to life, Yaz felt the vibrations under her skin. The Doctor, she realised, looked worried for the first time since they’d set foot on that planet. Her panicked eyes settled on Yaz’s. They seemed to search hers for an answer Yaz didn’t know how to give. Still, Yaz felt emotionally naked, as if there were pages turning behind her eyes and the Doctor could read every word written upon them.

”Why did she do this?” The Doctor whispered.

Yaz initially thought the Doctor was referring to Xenley, but later she would come to realise this was not the case. The Doctor was talking about the TARDIS. 

The humming came to a climax, so loud Yaz wasn’t sure if it was coming from inside her own head. Yaz was scared. Partly because the Doctor was scared - and if her fearless Doctor was scared that definitely wasn’t a good sign - and partly because there were things in her head she would rather keep there. Secrets. One secret. A bloody big one.

The glass around them began to burn hot white. The Doctor grabbed Yaz’s hand and squeezed onto it. Yaz couldn’t see a thing.

And then, just like that, she could see everything.

It felt like her senses were under attack.

So ensued a flurry of things she couldn’t totally comprehend. Names, materialising and then fading: Rose Tyler, Donna Noble, River Song, Amy Pond, Clara Oswald, The Master, so many more - all of them hovering for a fleeting moment in the forefront of her mind and then dissolving just as fast. The only thing they left behind was a feeling of overwhelming love, loss and grief. And regret. Yaz had never known regret like this. She watched the birth and death of planets and stars, experienced every emotion in their purest, most cutting forms. Joy. Hope. Fear. Rage. An aching, unending loneliness. 

She felt her heart might give out from the weight of it. 

Then, the agony of death, rebirth, regeneration. A dozen times over. Condensed into one singular moment of total anguish. Yaz wore the Doctor’s many faces, saw the universe through her many eyes, felt not like a hero but a being cursed to martyrdom, floating aimlessly in her big blue box. 

Drumbeats, an omen of war, ricocheted off the walls of her skull. _Bumbumbumbum. Bumbumbumbum._ The last thing tethering the Doctor to her home - ruined. Gone. Dead. Just like the rest of her people. Her family, her planet. Gallifrey. And during it all, one question, one essential, important, eternal question asked time and time again all throughout the universe. 

_Doctor Who?_

Yaz’s eyes flew open.

She fainted into the Doctor’s waiting arms. 

***

When she came to, the Doctor’s face filled her vision. Her eyebrows were creased, worry lines altering her features. Yaz felt dizzy and out of sorts, like she was in the wrong body, the wrong head. She blinked. Where was she again? She looked to her right and saw the stars, the neuro chamber, Xenley rushing over. Oh. Right. 

“Yaz,” The Doctor made her name sound more like a breath of relief. “I am so sorry you had to see that. I am so sorry. How are you feeling?”

Yaz struggled to sit up, assisted by the Doctor. She realised the Doctor had taken off her coat and folded it under her head. That observation alone made her feel a little closer to okay. Xenley was at her side now, fussing and apologising and trying to explain that this had never happened before, but Yaz could see nothing past the Doctor; could feel nothing but a fragmented sense of what it was really like to be her. 

The Doctor lifted a gentle hand to Yaz’s face and wiped at her cheek with the pad of her thumb. It came away wet. Yaz had been crying. The Doctor looked ashamed,  Yaz thought. She had no reason to.

”Doctor,” Yaz croaked. “You’re carrying so much.”

***

The rest of the resort was filled with guests, each of them having gone through their own S.M.T. and reemerging with apparent optimism for their relationships. The Doctor and Yaz had also been given a sealed envelope with the results of the Soulmate Test enclosed, although The Doctor had pocketed it without opening it. She had been too preoccupied with making sure Yaz was all right, despite the fact that Yaz had repeatedly assured her that she was fine. 

She wasn’t sure that was entirely true, though, and neither was the Doctor. 

So the Doctor had taken her to the roof, which Xenley had assured them boasted one of the finest views in the Crystal City and was reserved only for gold card holders. When they got up there, they found that she was right on the money about the view. Only, Yaz was too emotionally drained to pay too much mind to the dusky, purple sky or the three shining moons - one so big it felt as if they might have been able to graze the face of it with their fingertips if they reached out far enough. She hardly even noticed the way the stars were reflected in the crystalline landscape, as if the planet itself was a perfect mirror of the sky. This must have been what the S.M.T. room was attempting to recreate. 

One thing Yaz was appreciative of was how serene the rooftop was. The wind barriers protected them against high altitude winds and all of the guests conversed quietly or not at all, some opting to sit around the tranquil pool and rest, while some dined on sweet treats and gourmet dinners at the tiny, Parisian style restaurant-café at the far corner of the roof. It was so big that it took Yaz and the Doctor a full two minutes to make it to the other side of the rooftop to where a quaint swinging bench sat perched between two lush, red-leafed bushes shaped like hearts.

Not like the heart shapes that children draw in red crayon, but like actual beating hearts. Yaz thought it strange.

”Are you gonna open the envelope?” Yaz asked as they sat down. Truthfully, it was all she could think about. A 99% accurate judgement of her romantic compatibility with the Doctor.

“Hm. Nah.”

”What? Why?” Yaz asked. She tried to cover for herself when she realised how eager she sounded. “I mean, you were all for it earlier.”

”Eh, I’ve changed my mind,” The Doctor said, as if they were discussing something no more important than what to have for tea. “Why ruin the surprise, you know? Spoilers! Hate ‘em!”

“Right,” Yaz forced a smile. “Yeah.”

A lantern hung from a post nearby. This time, the flame was electric blue. When Yaz caught the scent of peppermint, she figured that all the various colourful flames they’d encountered must have been responsible for the variety of flavours in the air. Every single thing in that place was carefully designed to create a specific kind of atmosphere and encourage two people to fall in love. Yaz glanced at the Doctor and found herself wondering how successful it usually was; if it would have any bearing at all on a Time Lady.

”It’s a gorgeous view, isn’t it, Yaz?” The Doctor prompted, pulling Yaz from a potentially risky line of thinking. The Doctor pulled a leg under her and turned sideways on the bench so that she was facing Yaz dead on. “How you feelin’ then? Any better?”

”I should be the one asking you that,” Yaz disputed selflessly. “The things I saw, the things I felt when I was in your head. Doctor, I was in there for a second and I fainted. Is that how it feels to be you all the time?”

The Doctor sighed. “Yaz, you have to understand, I’ve been around for a very, very long time. I’m used to it! You don’t have to worry about little old me, eh?”

But Yaz did worry. How could she not?

”I don’t know how you do it,” She confessed. “How you stay so... kind. So hopeful and caring. I don’t think I’d be such a good person if I was in as much pain as you.”

The Doctor looked down at her hands. “It’s not all bad. I meet a lot of people, make a lot of friends!” She smiled, but it was lacking something. Self-assurance, maybe. “And don’t doubt yourself, Yaz. You are so good. One of the best, if you ask me. Hey, remind me to thank your mum again when I see her. She did a very good job with you.”

Yaz had always adored the Doctor’s unfailing optimism but right now she wished she’d just talk to her. Honestly. After all, Yaz had been inside her head. She had some idea of what it was like to be her and it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows - not by a long shot.

”If you’re hurting—“

”Nah, I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine, Doctor!” Yaz shouted. “You’re not, and I don’t know why it’s so hard for you to admit to it.”

Yaz swallowed, instantly regretting raising her voice at the Doctor as soon as she saw the smile slip from her face and become a frown. She understood the Doctor’s reasoning, she really did. The Doctor carried more burdens on her shoulders than any one person should ever have to endure - but she was far too kind to ever even consider unloading those burdens on another soul. Not without some serious convincing. 

“When you live as long as I do, you’re bound to lose a lot of people,” The Doctor eventually said. All traces of perkiness were absent. “So yes, Yaz, I have lost lots of people. But that’s not something you have to concern yourself with. That’s me. That’s my curse. Alright?”

”Not alright,” Yaz shook her head softly. She felt an immeasurable amount of sadness, and she couldn’t be sure if it was the remnants of her psychic connection to the Doctor still interfering with her emotions, or if it was all her. In all likelihood, it was probably the latter. 

The Doctor nodded. She took one of Yaz’s hands in both of hers. They were warm and soft. Yaz placed her other hand over the Doctor’s. 

“Listen to me, Yasmin Khan,” The Doctor began, hazel eyes locked on to hers in a manner that was unavoidable, undeniable. Yaz couldn’t have looked away from them if she had wanted to. “You are a beautiful soul through and through and I _love_ that. I really do. But you are my friend and it’s on me to protect my friends, even if that means protecting them from myself. You understand? It’s too much. I can’t put this on you.”

”But I’m asking you to,” Yaz pleaded.

The Doctor studied Yaz’s face, still holding tightly on to her hands. Yaz wished she would stop doing that. The Doctor didn’t know the effect it had on her. Finally, the Doctor exhaled deeply through her nose, absently brushing her thumb over the back of Yaz’s hand. 

“What do you want to know?” The Doctor asked.

Yaz quirked an eyebrow. She hadn’t expected the Doctor to give in to her demand to be let in, and now that she had, she wasn’t quite sure where to begin. But there was something - a bitter taste in her mouth left behind by one emotion in particular following the merging of their psyches. “What are you so afraid of?”

The Doctor’s face didn’t change, but she went very still.

“You,” She said.

Yaz didn’t understand. “What?”

”You and Graham and Ryan,” The Doctor clarified. “You terrify me. Every time we get out of that TARDIS and find ourselves somewhere new, somewhere very far from home, I worry that something will happen to you. I worry you’ll get lost, hurt, worse! I worry you’ll become another name in a long list of those I’ve had to say goodbye to too soon and that it’ll be my fault... again. I don’t wanna lose you guys, Yaz, but every time we narrowly escape with our lives I wonder if it was a mistake to bring you on board.”

Yaz thought about all of the Doctor’s countless companions whose names and faces she couldn’t recall, but whose emotional impact lingered still. She hadn’t given it much thought before, but now she was forced to come to terms with the fact that she and Graham and Ryan were far from the first people to travel with the Doctor and they wouldn’t be the last. How could they be, when their lives were so short and their bodies so weak? Something, at some point, was going to happen and one day the TARDIS would leave without them on board and never come back for them. The idea stirred so many mixed feelings within Yaz that she didn’t know how to filter through them or even name a single one. 

Then she considered how much worse it must have been for the Doctor, to have lived for millennia and to have bid farewell to so many friends over those years. How many times her heart must have been broken. You can’t repair damage like that - not with all the travelling and all the miracles and all the alien technology in the universe.

Yaz looked up, through moist eyes, at her friend, the Doctor. “I wish I could offer you a forever.”

”Sorry?”

”I mean, us human beings, we don’t exactly have the longest of lifespans,” Yaz went on. “Certainly not compared to you. But if I were able to, if I were like you, I’d promise you a forever. No more empty TARDIS, no more goodbyes. I wish I could give that to you, Doctor.”

The Doctor blinked and leaned back against the arm of the bench, clearly taken aback by Yaz’s willingness to offer something so monumental, so self-sacrificial, to her. Yaz doubted the Doctor was even aware just how much the people in her life would do for her. She’d never seen an ugly side, an egotistical side, in the Doctor. She didn’t think of herself in that way. Did she think of herself at all? 

“Don’t say that, Yaz, not ever. I’m glad you can’t offer that to me,” The Doctor said, her voice tender. “I wouldn’t wish eternity on anybody. Least of all you.”

Yaz opened her mouth to protest but the Doctor pressed on.

”And besides, however long I get to know you for is longer than I deserve. One day, I’ll get to boast that I knew the one and only Yasmin Khan - and not everybody gets to say that, do they, eh?” The Doctor’s usual perkiness had returned. Each of her words were filled with a measure of pride and excitement. She gestured down at the city below; it was thrumming with night life. “Look at all those people down there. They won’t get to say it. Most of the people in all of the universe won’t get to say it, but I will! I’ll get to say that Yasmin Khan was my friend and that makes me the luckiest person alive!”

Yaz smiled widely - she couldn’t help herself - and the Doctor smiled back. The Doctor’s compassion meant more to her now than it ever had before. Knowing her history, her burden, it would have been impossible for Yaz not to be dumbfounded by her ability to be so, unbelievably  _good_.

Yaz was certain that in all the corners of the universe, between the point where time first began and the point where it would one day end, there’d never be another person like the Doctor.

”Let’s get some food, shall we?” The Doctor suggested. “I’m _starving_.”

The Doctor had succeeded in making Yaz feel better, because she was the Doctor and she succeeded at everything she put her mind to, so Yaz willingly went along with her to the rooftop restaurant. The Doctor chose an outdoor table by the pool, and because Yaz had no idea what the food items on the menu were, the Doctor ordered for her.

Almost like they were on a date. 

Which made Yaz suddenly remember what she had been so afraid of in the seconds leading up to the experience in the S.M.T. chamber. The machine went both ways, which meant-

“Doctor, I have to ask,” Yaz started as the waiter brought out their food - two full dessert plates that looked and smelled mouth-wateringly good. Of course the Doctor would order dessert as a main course. Yaz wasn’t surprised. “Back in the neuro chamber, what did you see in my psyche?”

”Oh, you know,” The Doctor picked up a fork and broke off a piece of hot cake. “Nothing I didn’t already know. Well, I mean, maybe the intense but secret love for Taylor Swift came as a bit of a surprise but hey! I’m not here to judge.”

”Oh, God,” Yaz felt her cheeks go hot. 

The Doctor laughed endearingly, took a bite of food, then chewed slowly. Her eyes flitted briefly up to Yaz, then back down to her plate. Something was playing on her mind. “On a slightly related note, if there was - I mean, well, you know I would never judge you. Right? Never. Not about anything.”

Yaz froze just as she was about to dig in to a thick, lime green substance that almost resembled ice cream. “What do you mean?” She asked, but she was pretty sure she knew.

“Oh, nothing in particular,” The Doctor shrugged, feigning a cavalier attitude toward the subject. “Unless there is something in particular that you feel it pertains to, in which case, it’s definitely about that.”

Yaz put her fork down. “So you know, then.”

”Little bit, yeah,” The Doctor put her fork down, too. “Sorry. I really tried not to peek but it seems like this is an issue that’s been playing on your mind a lot lately.”

Yaz cast her eyes downwards. This was far from the Doctor’s fault, but she had wanted to tell her on her own terms and she couldn’t help but feel cheated at having that opportunity stolen from her by a bloody machine. She wasn’t sure what to say. It was difficult for her to think about, never mind talk about. Thankfully, the Doctor was a patient woman. She nodded encouragingly at Yaz when Yaz peered uncertainly up at her, debating how open to be with her. 

“I don’t even know why I hid it from you,” Yaz said, soon finding the courage to talk about it. “I know you don’t care about this kind of stuff. But it’s not something I’m used to; it’s not something I prepared for.”

”Hey, listen, sexuality is a tricky, complicated thing sometimes,” The Doctor crossed her arms atop the table and leaned in as she talked. “I’ve loved a lot of women - great women who’ve done great things - and I will always love the people I have loved. Always. So, you know, it might take time for you to feel a hundred percent all right with who you are, but just know that I’m already there, Yaz. I would never, ever think less of you over something like this. You’re, like, the best person ever! I adore you, seriously.”

There she went again, saying all the words Yaz had dreamed of hearing come out of her mouth but, she presumed, not meaning them in quite the way Yaz so desperately wanted her to. Her chest ached. 

“Love’s hard,” Yaz muttered quietly, unable to stop herself from saying it out loud.

”Love?” The Doctor shook her head, face scrunched up in that way Yaz found so adorable. “In all my years of life, love remains to be the purest, absolute bestest - is that a word? - thing I have ever encountered! Love persists! It has saved me time and time again, saved the lives of others, saved worlds and galaxies and the universe itself. How could a thing like that ever be wrong, in whatever form it presents itself as? Whoever you love, Yaz, let it be beautiful. Because it is. Love is so beautiful.”

Yaz couldn’t stop herself. Not when the Doctor was saying all of these things, making her heart yearn for so much more than it had in all its two decades of beating and wanting. She couldn’t stop the words that came out of her mouth next. 

“You know it’s you, don’t you?”

The Doctor’s grin lessened, her brow furrowing slightly, but only because she hadn’t yet put the pieces together. “What do you mean?” 

Yaz didn’t say anything right away, she just looked at the Doctor and waited for her to understand. It was one of the more agonising moments of her life. She watched cogs turning behind the Doctor’s eyes as they sat and stared at each other, both waiting for the other shoe to drop. Yaz braced herself. Whatever happened next, the words were out there in the world, and the Doctor had heard them, which made them real. 

“Oh,” The Doctor breathed. “Oh! You don’t mean...”

The corner of Yaz’s lips turned upwards into a soft half-smile. For a genius, the Doctor lacked a lot of common sense in regards to social cues. “Yes, Doctor. That’s exactly what I mean.”

The Doctor sat up straighter, caught completely off guard by Yaz’s confession. “It’s me,” She repeated, voice full of wonder. 

“It’s you.”

And then, in a rare moment of selfishness (because she _needed_ this, she did), Yaz reached across the table, pulled the Doctor in by her suspenders, and kissed her. Yaz kissed the Doctor. It was only meant to be a brief kiss, a brief collision of lips, like a solitary gasp of air before being submerged underwater once more. Until something incredible happened.

The Doctor kissed Yaz back. 

She kissed her gently, warmly, affectionately. Yaz had never been kissed like that in her life. She half expected to become dizzy, knocked out of balance by the rush of it all, but in fact she felt as though her feet had never stood on more solid ground. They pulled apart.

“Wow,” The Doctor laughed, just as in shock as Yaz. “Well. I really rather enjoyed that.”

”You did?”

”Oh, yeah. Here, feel this,” The Doctor took hold of Yaz’s hand and pressed it against the stripes of her shirt, where Yaz was shocked to find that both of the Doctor’s hearts were beating rapidly in her chest. “Can you feel all that adrenaline? Brilliant!”

Yaz was half laughing and half choking back a sob. Any sense of shame or self-loathing, at least in that moment, in the Doctor’s company, was gone. It was the greatest sense of relief she had known in a long time. The Doctor would never know - could never understand - just how much that meant to her. 

“Oh, no, you’re crying. Was it the kiss?” The Doctor asked, misunderstanding entirely. “Too much tongue? Not enough? I must admit, it’s been a while, I’m a little rust—“

”Just shut up and kiss me again,” Yaz interrupted, shaking her head at this woman who was so amazing and so clueless. “Would you?”

So she did. The Doctor kissed her again, on a rooftop restaurant in a Crystal City, and she really meant it. Yaz could tell. 

And while they kissed, time and all that it meant slipped away. Empires rose and fell, men became legends, stories were passed down and evolved through countless generations, wars raged on until their bitter, bloody ends but through it all — love prevailed. It all seemed to happen, all at once, all in the space of a single kiss.

Their own small slice of forever.

**Author's Note:**

> i was gonna have them open the envelope at the end but i changed my mind bcos #mystery (what do u guys think it said?)


End file.
